Sheeted Memories of The Past
by AShadowedLife
Summary: After Sweeney Todd returns to his old home, he comes face to face with someone he thought he'd lost feelings for a long time ago. Eventual Sweenett - Please review! DISCONTINUED...
1. Chapter 1

_Hi, lovelies! Now, this is my first real fanfiction, so please let me know what you think .... oh yeah and I do not own Sweeney Todd or Mrs Lovett_

_Hope you like!.....Sheesh! I'm really nervous now... *bites nails*_

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She sighed. Yet another day…yet another day filled with meaningless work. Making dough, filling pies, baking pies; what was the point? It had been like this for as long as she could remember…ever since Albert died… She saw no customers; no one came in for a pie or a glass of ale. Not that she could blame them, she'd tasted her pies. Horrible things they were. Besides, hardly any meat in them.

She was suddenly snapped out of her thoughts as the small bell over her door sounded. God, she had missed the sound of that bell. Her eyes settled on the dark figure stood in the doorway of her pie shop. _A customer!?_

"Wait, what's your rush? Where ya goin'?" she asked as he turned to leave. The man said nothing, but he stopped. She rushed over to him, pulling him down into one of the booths. "God, ya gave me quite a fright there. Haven't seen a customer for God knows 'ow long. Ya come in for a pie, sir?"

He watched with interest as this strange lady chatted away to him, making her way to behind her counter and producing a pie from the oven. What interested him most about this lady….was the fact that she seemed to be completely content on holding a one-sided conversation. It's not that he wasn't _trying_ to talk, but his focus on this unusual woman rendered him speechless. There was something strangely….familiar about her. Something about the way she chatted incessantly and flitted about the room that made him think that he had met this lady before. Somewhere…

Walking over to the booth the man was sat it, the woman placed a somewhat dusty pie in front of him. "Oh, I must say, I do miss the customers I used to 'ave 'ere. You'd think I 'ad the bloody plague the way people avoid me store."

She had been looking around the shop, as if searching for some reason people don't come in, but, on finishing her sentence, she looked back down at the dark man in front of her. Her brow furrowed. Had she met this man before? He did seem familiar, but she couldn't place him. _But then, _she thought, _I 'aven't seen a customer in _how_long? I coulda simply forgotten 'im._

After seeing the man looking at her quite strangely, she shook her head dragging herself out of her thoughts and back to reality. "There y'are now," she said, pushing the pie towards him. "Can I get ya somethin' else? Glass o' ale, perhaps?" He nodded.

Walking back over to the shop counter, the lady hurriedly wiped her hands on her skirts, reaching for a glass. "Mind you, I can 'ardly blame 'em," she remarked, gesturing out of the windows towards the people walking past. "These things are bloody 'orrible, they are. Ugh," As the woman looked down, a rather large cockroach scuttled past. "Times is so 'ard, I can't afford much meat anymore."

Rearranging the rather dishevelled curls on top of her head, she looked up to see her customer gagging on the horrible taste of the pie he had just sampled. Refraining herself from giggling at the look on his face, the lady walked over and placed the glass of ale in front of the dark man, watching as he tentatively sipped at the liquid that had just been given to him.

"You'll need somethin' stronger than that, I'm sure. Come back here with me and we'll get ya a nice tumbler o' gin, eh?"

The man stood, following the owner of the store into what he assumed was her living room. Then he saw it. The staircase. _Their _staircase. He wondered if this lady had known _her._ Well, there was only one way to find out –

"You have a room over the shop, don't you? If times are so hard, why don't you rent it out?" Immediately her head snapped around and realisation hit her as hard as a ton of bricks. It was _him_. How had she not realised sooner?

"What, up there?" she asked slowly, gesturing upstairs. "Nah, no one'd go up there. People think it's haunted." He looked over at her, her face a beautiful glow in the light of the fire blazing behind her. And then he realised. It was her. Oh, God help him, he _did_ know this woman. This woman, who had been his landlord for years.

As he was coming to terms with this and about to ask the woman…_Mrs Lovett_…where his wife was…she told him something that brought him crashing back down to earth. His heart dropped.

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_Phew...there's the first chapter done... Hope you enjoy!_


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

"_What?" _His voice was a deadly whisper. Mrs Lovett looked on in fondness as the man stood before her paled visibly, the news she had just delivered to him an unexpected blow. His eyes were so pleading, so soft, that she just _knew _she had to console and comfort him.

"Benj-" she started, before being abruptly cut off.

"_No!"_ he thundered at her, the softness in his eyes having been switched to a stone cold hardness. "Not Benjamin. Not anymore. It's Todd now. Sweeney Todd. And he will have his revenge."

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Her footsteps were heavy on the creaking wooden steps, hard yet hesitant steps following close behind her own. Sliding the key into the aging lock, Nellie pushed the door open. It was strange, being in this room again. She hadn't been up here since that day, so many years ago, when they'd come for the girl. _Johanna_. When she'd told Mr Todd, he'd frozen. Knowing his daughter was with _that_ man, of all men, was not news he'd expected or liked hearing.

You couldn't blame him. Turpin – that was the man's name – was not a well-liked man, though he _was_ held in high regard, though only for his occupation. Now, though, after the fact of being told this news, the hardness that had wracked Mr Todd's body was only faintly seen, hidden beneath a layer of vulnerability and apprehension.

"Come in." She spoke gently, careful to show she was being comforting, not commanding. He took a tentative step forward, brow creased in thought.

"Nothin' to be afraid of, love."

Sweeney brought his eyes up from the ground and they locked with the large, dark ones before him. Nellie's breath caught in her throat. His gaze was so intense; so lost in thought, yet so locked to the present situation.

Slowly walking into the room, he dropped his eyes from Nellie's, letting them search his former shop. Heart beating against his ribcage, his mind filled with faint visions of faint memories. _Lucy, standing in _that_ corner, brushing her hair…_

Another faint memory, trying to push towards the front of his mind.

To _him_, this truly was a haunted place.

While Sweeney was busying himself with haunting memories, Mrs Lovett was searching the floorboards for something, running gloved hands over the dusty surface. Concentrated frown on her face, she rapped twice on one particular board and her face lit up with relief. _Uh huh! There it is…_

The floorboard came out easily into her hands, revealing a velvet cloth-covered case. Seemingly brought back to the present, Sweeney turned around, staring intently at what was in his landlady's hands. _It must be something good…_Sweeney thought, noticing how gentle and respectful her touch was.

And then he saw it. _Oh God…_It was his case. His razors. He knelt down in front of her, reaching his hand out to gently graze the leather material. "I don't believe it…You kept them all these years?" He was forced to look up when she didn't answer, to see her avoiding his eyes, blushing slightly and biting her bottom lip.

"Well…"she started, obviously embarrassed, but feeling obliged to tell him the truth. "When they came for the girl I 'id 'em. Coulda sold 'em, but I didn't." she added, gaining confidence towards the end and looking straight at him.

Realising the deeper meaning in her words, Sweeney lifted his head, staring wonderingly and incredulously at Mrs Lovett. _"Coula sold 'em, but I didn't."_ The words replayed in his mind. She obviously needed the money, not being able to afford meat and all that. But yet she kept his razors; his silver beauties, locked up for fifteen years. Had she expected him to return? _Hoped_ maybe…?

Noticing that their faces were just mere inches apart, his eyes flicked down to her deliciously succulent lips. _Had she always been this enticing before I left?_

She could feel him staring at her as she fiddled with the case. Feel his eyes raking slowly down her body, his breathing becoming harsh and laboured as his lust evidently grew. Looking up, she subtly moved her face towards his, hoping he just suddenly noticed they were close. He did.

Both slowly closing their eyes as they sunk into their lust, their lips grew closer, about to draw into a passionate and heated kiss –

Just before their lips touched, Sweeney opened his eyes, and they subconsciously rested on the aged, framed photograph. The photograph that showed his glowing, happy wife holding their year old daughter.

_What am I doing!? I can't do this! What about Lucy? –_

_This is it, _she thought._ What I've waited for for so many bleedin' years is finally here. _She moved slowly forwards once again –

Suddenly, unexpectedly, she felt a hand push her roughly away, throwing her onto the wooden floorboards and causing her to fall flat on her backside. _"No!"_ he thundered once again as he pushed her. Staring into Mrs Lovett's eyes, he saw raw emotions pouring forth: hurt, fear, worry and curiosity all in one. He couldn't bear the look in her eyes and couldn't stand the fact of what he'd almost done. The fact that he'd _wanted_ to do it.

He turned quickly on his heel, striding toward the window and running a shaking hand through his unruly hair. "No…" he spoke again, a mere whisper this time and she couldn't help but notice how his voice cracked slightly on the word.

He could feel her staring at him. Her eyes staring painfully at his turned back. She was too close. "Leave me," he whispered.

Staring a few moments longer at his turned form, eyes filling with uncontrollable tears, Mrs Lovett stood up, turning and quickly fleeing the room, already feeling disobedient tears pouring down her cheeks.

Heart beating furiously in her chest, she pounded down the stairs, flinging the door to her shop open and locking herself in her bedroom.

_I'd been so close…_she thought, squeezing her eyes shut and willingly letting her hot tears stain her cheeks.


	3. Chapter 3

_Well, loves. I am soooooo sorry it has taken this long to post this chapter. I have had the worst writer's block I've ever had. Lack of internet doesn't help either though…. XD_

_Ok, I was supposed to put an author's note at the top of the last chapter, but nooo…my internet had to have a fit and screw it all up XD (SF1)_

_So here's this one: OMG Thankyou all /so/ much for your excellent reviews! You have no idea how much they all meant to me. How much it meant to know you're all reading it and /actually/ enjoying it. :rolleyes: I thought I was gonna get crap response XD_

_Anyway…enough yabbering…on to chapter 3! –_

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To say it had been awkward the next morning would be an understatement. A _gross_ understatement. Nellie thought back to the moment when his lips had almost touched hers. She'd been so close to him; could feel his hot breath on her. But then he'd stopped. He'd stopped because of that _damned_ picture of his _precious_ Lucy. Fifteen years he'd been gone. _Fifteen_ years since _she_….went, and she was still giving her problems.

From the moment she'd very awkwardly and very hurriedly rushed out of his room after the fact, he hadn't come down from his current sanctuary. Until now. And now it was just plain embarrassing that she'd once again let her feelings sit on her sleeves. If she'd learnt one thing about herself over the years, it was that she too easily showed what she was feeling. Her cheeks flushed a charming red at the thought of the newly named Sweeney Todd seeing her eyes well up with tears as she ran away.

Licking her lips as she replaced her teacup on the table in her shop, Nellie cleared her throat, trying to make sure her voice didn't crack with emotion like she could feel it was sure to do. Luckily, it didn't.

"Mr T?" Her words were met with silence.

"Mr T?" she tried again, staring intently at her cup of tea sitting on the rough, scratched wood of the table she used to frequently serve pies to people at.

"Mmm?" he mumbled as a response. Finally tearing her eyes up from their fixed place on the table, her brow furrowed as she saw him completely ignoring her; his mumbled reply to her words clearly just an automatic, half-hearted response.

"_Mr Todd!"_ she nearly screeched. Visibly jolting from the shock of being brought out of his mind and back into the present, it was Sweeney's turn to frown.

"What?"

Rolling her eyes heavenward, Nellie heaved a great sigh. "I were thinking…now that you're back an' all, you're gonna be wantin' to establish yer business again."

Seeing him simply staring at her, she took it as her cue to continue.

"Well, ya see, there's this man what comes to St Dunstan's Market every Thursday who claims to be a brilliant barber….and, I just…I know that you're much better, an'…I just thought…."

Sighing a huge sigh, Nellie decided to spit it out. "I just thought that ya may as well go there an' try an' show him up if ya want any customers, ya see."

Sweeney blinked. _To work towards my revenge…_he thought. _Why didn't _I _think of that?_

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Afterwards, walking home from their victory, Mrs Lovett spared another glance in Sweeney's direction. Stern expression, little conversation, brooding attitude: she was already used to his mannerisms. But….it was unnerving that he hadn't even looked her way since they left her shop to join the growing crowds at St Dunstan's Market. They'd just re-met, as it were; she didn't want to have him hate her just because she had once again been too forthright with her feelings.

"Something I can help you with, Mrs Lovett?" Sweeney's deep, rumbling voice sounded, making her physically jump from her worried thoughts. Eyes widening in surprise at the realisation that she had, in fact, been staring at him, Mrs Lovett whipped her head back round to stare at the road ahead of her.

"No, no. Sorry, love, got caught in me thoughts is all…" she rambled off rather quickly, her voice coming out a bit higher than usual.

"I don't see why your thought should involve anything that would cause you to be looking at me." Sweeney commented, luckily not noticing the deep crimson blush that crept its way onto Nellie's face.

_If only you knew, Mr T_; she thought the words she didn't have the courage to voice aloud.

"Um…" she hesitated, trying desperately to crush out the pressing urge to tell him about her deeper feelings: that she loved him and always had. Instead – "Oh, I were just thinkin' o'what we could do to liven up that shop of yours. You know, now that we're goin' to be getting' quite a few customers. Maybe some daisies or gillyflowers or something?"

Sweeney grunted in reply.

_Phew!_ She thought. _At least I talked myself out of that one._ Feigning a happiness she didn't feel, she lightly patted Sweeney's arm. "Come on, love."

By this time, they'd reached the glass windows that displayed the insides of her very tired looking store. Sweeney instantly walked up the stairs to his quiet abode. Nellie, knowing full well that he'd be staring out of that _bloody_ window again, rolled her eyes and retreated into her store to work on getting lunch started.

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"There y'are now, Mr T." Nellie chatted, seemingly chipper now – at least, more than she was before – as she placed the tray down on the side table. A tray that's contents merely consisted of a badly made pie and a tumbler of ale. And a flower. A lone, purple, dainty little flower that she'd placed there with a small, albeit pointless, attempt to get him to at least _ask_ her why she'd done it.

"Mrs Lovett?"

Tying to hide the smile that she could just _feel_ creeping its way onto her face, a non-committal sound escaped her throat.

All that was said as a continuation, was a quietly mumbled, "Nothing…"

She slowly turned her back on the fractured mirror above the side table. He was just sitting there, in the chair that she'd convinced him to bring up for business – it looked presentable, you see – with a concentrated frown on his face as he stared at the lunch she had prepared him, just below this very space, in her own store.

"Right, tha's it, love?"

When no further sound emitted from the barber's mouth, Mrs Lovett straightened her skirts and began to head for the door. Just as her hand brushed the doorhandle, something caught her eye.

A man. A man in an extravagant blue coat, followed by a little blonde haired slave boy. _Pirelli_, she thought with a sneer.

"Mr T, ya might wanna see this." Ordinarily, Sweeney would have ignored her, but this particular time he seemed to notice the stern tone to her words and the worried expression on her face. Practically leaping out of his chair, he accompanied Nellie with looking out of the dust covered window.

"Wha's 'e doin' here?" Was the only thing that he could register for a few moments. Then he really snapped into action.

"Keep the boy downstairs."

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_Well, there it was. Chapter 3. _

_Now, I had some interest about what's going to be the deal with Lucy in this one and I'll tell you. Until a couple of days ago, I actually had /no/ idea about her role in this story. But now I have worked out a how she fits in…but you'll all have to wait and see /how/ she fits into the storyline._

_Will she be alive or won't she? *shifty eyes*_

_Thankyou to all the unsigned viewers that I hope are still showing an interest in the story. You made my day._


	4. Authors Note

_Unfortunately, due to other interests and lack of commitment, I have decided to discontinue this story. Sorry to anyone who has read this and wished for it to continue, but as I suspect there would only be very few of you, I suggest to those people to perhaps check out my other stories instead._

_Apologies,_

_AShadowedLife_

_X._


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